Harry Has Sex at the End
by aelursadgod
Summary: In which Harry is so horny that OoCness is seen as something funny. Sort of crack, Harry/Voldemort. Oneshot.


**A/N:** English isn't my first language, so please don't hesitate to point out any grammar/spelling mistakes. This is set after the fourth year.

Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, defeater of You-Know-Who, the one and only Boy-Who-Lived and holder of the record for the biggest amount of capitalized titles in the history of modern magic, was currently reflecting upon the number of mistakes that he had made since he'd woken up earlier that day.

One. He shouldn't have compared Dudley to the meal he had been cooking for his so-called family in _extensive detail_ (a delicious pork that had been condemned to the trash bin after his uncle had tried to hit him with it), for he'd been forced to flee the house in an attempt to escape the rage of two male whales who could've passed for two really fat humans anytime. Hell, he had even thought about calling Animal Planet to report the successful breeding of a perfect specimen of a human-whale hybrid. But thanks to that white, snake-human thing (who would also make an excellent protagonist for an Animal Planet show) who was really keen on killing him (or raping, after what'd transpired last year he was not entirely sure), his thoughts this summer were focused on finding ways to stay alive (at least until he could get laid) rather than making a revolution in the scientific world.

So, it was thanks to the supreme work of Lady Irony that he left the only place where he could be truly safe, after all the thinking he'd done that summer to _stay alive_. And to avoid what? A good spanking? Some weeks of starvation? He could go without eating anytime if that at least kept his… uhm, life-_ass_ safe from a certain Dark Lord.

Well, moving on to mistake number two, he should've stayed hidden in Mrs. Figg's backyard until the floor had stopped shaking from the heavy footsteps of those killing whales. Running had proven to be a bad idea. A _bad_ idea.

Mistake number three? Not having his wand. While he was alone. In a park. At night. Putting muggle rapists, murderers and general creeps aside (who cares about them anyway? It's not as though they were _ever_ important in the story); a Death Eater could be watching his every move and waiting for the perfect opportunity to abduct him and take him to that creep, or worse, _fall in love_ with him so a romantic situation could be unfolded; in which he'd have to stand a lot of corny and unneeded situations that someone would surely write about in the near future with lots of bag grammar and spelling mistakes.

And that led to mistake number four. He should have never considered playing for the opposite team. He was chased on a daily basis by a group of crazy terrorists who were all sex-deprived males (or at least they looked like they were) and God forbid, were all kind of _hot_. Bar Voldemort. Ew. And Pettigrew. Double ew. And Snape, although if you covered his face with a paper bag, you could ignore his greasy hair and deformed nose in favor of his nice ass.

That particular thought made Harry wonder if it wasn't himself the one who was sex-deprived, and even if his friends had already accepted the fact that he was quite gay he knew that saying that Snape had a nice ass was pushing the situation too far.

So, being kind of horny and wanting to get laid _with a guy_ while a whole army of _guys_ was chasing him was not a particularly good situation. Not that he'd screw the first good-looking guy he came across, he was not a whore for Merlin's sake- "_look at that fine piece of ass!"_

…okay, maybe his desperation _was_ reaching a point where he would screw the first handsome male that he came across. And that was a gorgeous, tall platinum-blond who had turned around, and was currently walking in his direction and _oh my god_ it was Lucius Malfoy.

_Shit. _

He was quite embarrassed that a Death Eater had caught him while he was thinking about sex, _gay sex_ nonetheless, instead of brooding like any other teenager out there.

Not that Lucius Malfoy would ever know about that.

_Double shit._

Harry had suddenly realized that he could now see the white of the Death Eater's eyes, and that only indicated that while he'd been busy being embarrassed, the man had gotten closer to his _prey._

'_That sounded kinky,' _Harry fought a blush as he stared at the starless sky, in hopes of avoiding the man's gaze.

"Harry Potter," the man almost purred. "It is quite fortunate to find you here, although I cannot comprehend why you seem to be so… calm, considering the events that transpired not some weeks ago."

Harry tried hard not to stare. Was this man really in his forties? He could give some muggle movie stars a run for their money.

"Yeah…," he babbled, suddenly remembering that he was in a bad situation. "Well, bollocks. You Slytherins are the paranoid ones, we Gryffindors are supposed to be confident and brave and all that jazz. Cannot live my life thinking there's a madman with an axe waiting for me at every corner."

"So you deem appropriate to take a walk through the park at almost midnight, without your wand I might add, because of your _Gryffindor tendencies_?"

"Basically," _'you forgot the thinking about hot Death Eaters part, but I blame my Slytherin side for that'. _

"I see," Lucius said, arching an eyebrow like only he could. He then put a hand on Harry's shoulder, who was now wishing it could magically end up somewhere below his waistline. _'Bad Harry. Stop thinking about sex, and start thinking about not being killed!'_

"Then you won't mind showing off your courage by calmly accompanying me to see my master".

'_Oh, shit.'_

"Uhm, unless you somehow changed your loyalties and are now serving Santa Claus, I don't think I'd like to go with you". '_At least I didn't make a sex reference. Yet,' _Harry thought and brushed the hand aside. He spun around and made a run for his life. Literally.

But damned Lucius Malfoy hadn't gotten a sudden amnesia and was still quite knowledgeable of magic spells. So he fell into darkness, as the _Desmaius_ spell hit him.

_**PAGEBREAK**_

Harry had expected to find himself waking up to a really bizarre ceremony in which he was the sacrifice, with runs carved onto his body, blood, an altar and all that kind of things that low-budget movie producers were so fond of. That or being chained to a stone wall in a really cold and dirty cell, with only a skeleton for a companion. He was surprised, to say the least, to wake up to such _wonderful _view.

And that is, ladies and gentleman, the well-toned ass of a dark-haired someone who had his back on him and was currently talking to a blond man at the door. Harry, completely aware of the delicate situation he was in, did the best thing that anyone could do, strategically speaking.

He giggled.

His well-planned, cunning action took by surprise the other two men, one of whom turned around to get a better look of him while the other dared not come inside the room.

"It seems like you have woken up sooner than expected, Mr. Potter," said the smooth voice of… _'Shit, shit, shit, he's here; he's fucking here and is going to kill me! Or worse, subject me to another one of his monologues!' _ Harry interrupted the narration with his frantic thoughts.

After calming himself down, Harry took a minute to realize that Voldemort didn't quite look like Voldemort anymore. He felt his jaw drop at the sight of a slightly older version of the Tom Riddle he'd fought against in the Chamber of Secrets, and was pleased to find that he'd not been crazy when he'd included the future Dark Lord in his 'shaggable boys' list. Well, considering that he was talking about the same person who killed his parents and made his life hell, he supposed he was crazy after all; but after surviving a giant basilisk, an army of dementors, a dragon, a man-eater spider, and this man he thought he had all the right in the world to be _just a little _crazy after all.

"It's considered rude to stare at people like that, Harry," said the red-eyed man with a smirk plastered on his face. The boy could see Lucius still standing by the door, looking curious as to why his master hadn't killed him yet. Or at least that's what Harry thought.

"Y-you, you look… how?" Harry spluttered incoherently. "You looked like a snake!"

"Oh, yes. I see you've noticed my… _change_. Well, that appearance you so eloquently describe as snake-like was a temporary side effect to the first part of the ritual, which was the potion that required your blood, as you may remember."

Harry winced at the memory. It hadn't been a particularly pretty night.

"So, the ritual was half-done?"

"At that time, yes."

They stared at each other for a minute. Harry was the first to break contact, casting his eyes to the desk that was placed right in front of the bed he was currently sitting in.

"So…" he said, clearly nervous, "aren't you going to kill me or something?"

Voldemort arched an eyebrow.

"Why would I do that?"

Harry bit his lip. "Because you're uhm, evil, and obviously have wet dreams about me being horrendously tortured and then killed?"

Voldemort tried to answer, but was suddenly interrupted by the young captive.

"Is that a porn magazine?"

Harry heard the stifled giggles in the background, and reached to the night stand. Its drawer was barely open, but the tell-tale signs of a nude body were clearly seen through the opening.

"Oh my god. Lord Voldemort has gay porn in his night stand instead of evil plans and weapons of mass destruction."

"Well," the Dark Lord tried to explain, completely flustered at the fact that his arch nemesis had found such _compromising_ material; "every man has his needs."

"Geez, sorry for mistaking you for a mere mortal and not a total psycho."

"Harry… why are you flipping through the pages?"

"Well, I couldn't buy last month's edition. I had to use my money to fund paramilitary organizations, you know?"

"You like gay porn?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, after what Skeeter wrote last year about me and almost every girl in my class, I'm not surprised everyone thinks I'm still straight. But let me tell you, if you would've had Aunt Petunia as the sole female role model in your life for nearly eleven years, you'd have ended up as gay as I am." Harry looked back at the magazine, "not that you aren't, of course. Although it's still a misery how I didn't become asexual, because my male role models were pretty crappy too, but I guess that sharing the dorm with another four guys influenced me in some way."

What Harry didn't notice, while he was rambling and looking at a particular model that had a rather large _friend_, was the odd gleam in Voldemort's eyes.

"And how's that? I mean, for how long have you been gay? Aren't people as old as you supposed to be really homophobic?"

"Dumbledore's gay," the Dark Lord simply answered, and smirked at the expression on his nemesis' face.

"Bloody hell. I now know why he favored those candies so much."

"Because of the sexual innuendo?" Asked Lucius from the doorway.

Both Voldemort and Harry rolled their eyes.

"Long story, involves a lot of kinky stuff that you don't want to know," answered Harry. "Gay people only, you know?"

Lucius nodded.

"I feel that by now you're making yourself to be quite the nuisance, Lucius. Would you mind advising Bellatrix not to enter my rooms unless she feels particularly suicidal?"

The blond nodded, and casted a glance at Harry before closing the door and getting the hell out of the scene.

"Well, now _this_ is an uncomfortable situation," Harry said, eyeing warily the closed door. A brief glance at the Dark Lord indicated that he was curious as to the meaning of it.

"Uhm, you, me, gay magazines and the obvious sexual tension."

"Who says I brought you here to fuck you instead of killing you?" Voldemort folded his arms, and rested himself against a chair.

"Duh, I'm in your bedrooms and you haven't killed me yet."

"And here I was thinking that you had some sort of mental handicap," Voldemort said amused, eyeing Harry with interest clearly written in his red orbs.

"Nah, I'm a teenage boy. I'm witty only when it comes to sex," he answered, shrugging. "So don't get any strange fantasies about me joining you outside of a gay pride march."

"I believe, Mr. Potter, that considering the state you're in now, you haven't had any sexual intercourse in the last year. It's painfully obvious that the Light side is filled only with straight men, sans those godfathers of yours, and that you're going to remain a virgin for the rest of your life if you continue fighting for them."

"Wait a minute, are you trying to convince me to join you by tempting me with sex?"

"You're a teenage boy, after all."

Harry looked positively shocked. "You cunning bastard," he said with narrowed eyes. "No wonder why everyone here is so _fanatical_ about killing muggles and kissing your ass."

Voldemort simply smirked at him. "Now it would be an appropriate time to start showing you how _persuasive_ I can be."

Harry looked nervous.

"And you didn't stand up because you fear you're going to break your hip?"

"No, because I'm the Dark Lord and you are a horny teenage kid."

"Aaaand?"

"I'm counting on that sexual tension you mentioned to make you go first."

Harry eyed the man for a moment, unsure of what he'd implied, but he quickly made up his mind and asked, "Are you by any chance a uke?"

"Excuse me?" Said the Dark Lord, looking quite livid for the first time.

"Well, you want _me_ to initiate the sexual act, so I thought…"

"What is a uke?" Interrupted the man.

"Oh. Sorry. Weeabo slang, I'm kind of used to it, gomen."

"I have no idea what you just said."

"Nevermind," Harry sighed and approached the Dark Lord, who had abandoned the confused look and was now wearing a smug smirk on his face. The bastard. Harry leaned down, and kissed him quickly in the lips, but before the older man could respond, he moved his face to the man's ear and whispered, "get the hell out of that chair and take your pants off. I'm not doing the undressing for you, you lazy bastard."

"I've worked all day, I'm sure I could use a reward," said the man grumpily as he obliged.

"Yeah, but you work for the enemy. Shit, _you_ are the enemy. I can't reward that."

"You're aware of the fact that you're going to engage in a sexual act that could easily be seen as a reward?"

"Consensual sex in the missionary position is hardly a reward," snorted Harry. "And no, I don't plan to reward you tonight, so you'll have to do with only screwing your enemy in the only religiously-approved sexual position." After a moment, Harry added, "at least be glad that it isn't for procreation purposes."

"Good point."

The Dark Lord grinned and crashed his lips to Harry's, as the reader grew more and more excited at the prospect of hot man sex. They devoured each other's mouth with passion, for evil work had cut off masturbation time for one and unreleased libido had become unbearable for the other. Lots of mandatory hot acts later (which included but were not limited to: ear/nipple nibbling, hickeys, groping and tongue battles), Voldemort began the real action and started undressing Harry, who fell into a sudden denial that he had made that feminine whimper. The boy stopped the man as they and their erections panted.

"Wait! What if I'm your son?"

"What the fuck?" Grunted Voldemort, forgetting all about his supposed eloquent character.

"I mean, for all you know you could've had a drunken affair with my mother… or my father for that matter with unforeseen consequences and now we'd be committing incest!"

"Potter," the Dark Lord said, still on top of the boy, "I hate alcohol, I hate mudbloods, I hated your father and besides, I've killed hundreds of people. The only thing that the idea of incest could ever do to me is give me a hard on."

And Harry felt what he meant.

"And? You're having sex with me, but you couldn't have had sex with my father?"

"Potter, males cannot get pregnant. Didn't you pay attention in school?"

"So, you admit you slept with my father, you bastard!"

"For Merlin's sake," Voldemort said, frustrated that his erection was no more. "He was as straight as a man can be, even cheated on your mother twice." Noticing Harry's expression he quickly added, "With two _women."_

"So? You could still be my father! What if Snape was secretly a woman and after one of your so-called raids she ended up pregnant with your child, and to protect me from you she gave me to the Potters because no one would ever be the wiser?"

Voldemort chuckled.

"Potter, you don't want to have sex. You're afraid I'll rip your ass open," and the meaning behind that was left hanging in the air. Harry blushed, embarrassed that his obvious virginity had been discovered.

"Pfft, as if your little wrinkled penis could ever hope to reach my prostate."

Voldemort arched an eyebrow and took off his pants and underwear.

"Woah. Nevermind."

"If this was a story, I'm sure the readers would be starting to lose their patience right now," said the blessed man as he climbed on top of Harry again.

"Who would like to read about two enemies fucking each other?" The boy frowned.

"Dumbledore, that I know at least."

"Wait, what? Oh. _Oh._ I suddenly realized I won't be able to look at him in the eye anymore." Harry felt Voldemort's lips trailing down his neck.

"At least you now know that he cannot blame you for falling for his enemy."

"Shit, was Grindlewald _that_ hot?" Harry felt the man stop.

"Have you just indirectly complimented me?"

"Shit. That was meant to be a thought- mmhp!" His mouth was suddenly full of sticky evil tongue, courtesy of Voldemort. Harry knew that he was in for a sore butt tomorrow, but as the author was tired of typing the witty conversations between the two, he accepted the fate.

But he'd make the bastard pay with his own butt when he was finished.

The thought of sodomizing his arch nemesis sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, making his back arch to press his body closer to the Dark Lord's. The man in question was currently doing a wonderful show with his nipples, and Harry thought he wouldn't be able to stand more if one of those pale hands didn't close around his throbbing member.

Voldemort seemed to understand this, and quickly began with the masturbation part of every slash lemon out there. He didn't let Harry cum, though, and the boy was ready to turn the back on his stomach and give him the ride of his life. Sadly the strong hands of the pale man kept him in place as he prepared the boy for penetration.

The author won't bother to explain what happened next, because it's not that hard to imagine, but will write that it was indeed painful (for Harry) at first, but then he kind of got used to it. He couldn't cum as quickly as Voldemort did; so when the man finished and got himself out of the boy, he was surprised to be pressed against the mattress. Struggle proved to be useless as the clever (and very, very horny) teenager had immobilized him using magic and was now doing something that could classify as rape.

But Voldemort had not almost sixty years old of experience for nothing, and he came again when Harry sprayed his butt cheeks with his seed. The boy let himself fall besides the man and covered his naked body with the sheets.

"Shit, don't expect me to say anything intelligent in the next four hours."

"I shouldn't worry; your libido will get you smart quickly."

Harry looked to the ceiling.

"I could get used to this."

"What do you mean?"

"Having sex with a seventy-year-old pedophile Dark Lord at night and sodomizing the rest of his followers by the day."

"See? You're already witty again."

"Shit, old man, get on your stomach now and show me that fine piece of ass."

Voldemort, now free of any magic restraints, hexed the boy as the fanfic was coming to an end. The author let the curtains close just when another sex scene started, and the moans could still be heard as she explained that Harry finally came to his senses and stopped fighting for the light side(after all, it wouldn't do for him to kill his lover) and everyone lived happily ever after. Except Lucius, who was once bribed into a threesome with Voldemort and Harry and had his arse abused to the point of turning him gay. Snape was not amused.


End file.
